Daddy's Girl

I haven't written about my father for a long time because he's still alive.

Sort of.

But today when I went into his room, he was awake and alert and I think he knew who I was. He didn't talk, of course, and he moved very slowly, but he deliberately arranged me so that I was embracing him, then, centimeter by centimeter, rearranged me so that he was embracing me.

I prayed that he would die like this, loving and being loved.